An Examination of Love and Humor
by Jimi's Little Wing
Summary: A set of romantic and platonic drabbles centered around Katara and Zuko.
1. Pretend

**CHAPTER ONE:**

**PRETEND**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

He put a hand on her bare shoulder as she cried.

"We can try it again."

She trembled under his hand. It scared him.

"It'll be better."

She just shook her head, long dark hair covering her skin from his sight. He loved her skin. It was smooth. It was exotic. It made him want to do things to her.

"With practice –"

But she jerked away from him, holding herself. "I was saving myself for someone who _loved _me," she said miserably.

"Katara," he began, reaching for her. "Please…"

"Why don't you do anything but hurt me?" she asked him, her voice thick with tears.

He retracted his hand. "I don't know."

She shook violently at this, hanging her head. "Say it." She commanded him. No one commanded him.

"No."

But when she turned to him, her eyes bright with pain and fallen tears, he faltered. "Please…" she whispered. "Let me pretend. Say it. …Please…"

He sighed. Pretend. Sure. That was all this was anyway. Pretending not to love her. Pretending not to care. Pretending to be a prince. Pretending to be strong.

"I love you, Katara."

But she cried even harder afterwards.


	2. Shades of Blue

**CHAPTER TWO:**

**SHADES OF BLUE**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

Why was everything so owned so…BLUE!? For once couldn't it be gray or yellow or black or pink or purple – gods forbid something she owned be red!

She wanted to roll in the field when she saw it. She wanted to soak in all the colors, make her robes a rainbow and fly into the sky, shoot off and color the world. She wanted to cry with all the colors she would never have.

She walked through the field – so rare and so perfect – and let the flowers caress the tips of her fingers. Slowly, softly, she sat in the middle, laying down. She closed her eyes to the vast blueness above her. Enough blue. Enough.

Her eyes opened when she heard the crunching behind her. Upside down – so that his frown was actually a smile – Zuko hovered. She looked at him vaguely.

With a flick of his wrist he tossed a bundle of flowers on her stomach. "The same color as your eyes," he told her.

Then with the same surprising quickness that brought him to her, he was gone. She sat slowly, letting the flowers fall into her lap. They were dazzling – cobalt, navy, azure, indigo, sapphire, cerulean – blue flowers.

Katara bit her bottom lip as she held the flowers against her mouth, breathing deep into their petals. He knew the color of her eyes.


	3. Stupid and Stubborn

**CHAPTER THREE:**

**STUPID AND STUBBORN**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

"Just tell me what he did to you!"

"He didn't do anything, you stupid jerk-face!"

"But –"

"Leave me alone, _Sokka_!" she shouted. She couldn't help it. She shouted when she was angry.

"Katara," he tried again. He was as stubborn as he was stupid.

Then she smiled. They both were. They _ALL_ were.

Sokka was stubborn and stupid over her. Katara was stupid and stubborn over Zuko. Zuko was stupid and stubborn over _EVERYTHING_!

She buried her face in her hands and laughed. She just laughed. Like a maniac. Like an idiot. Like a crazy person. Like a madwoman.

She turned with that same crazy smile to her brother. He looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Wanna know a secret?" she asked.

Then he shook his head. "No." Then he walked away.


	4. Basically the Same

**CHAPTER FOUR:**

**BASICALLY THE SAME**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

She didn't want to go back. Not after what happened last night. Not after all she'd said and all he'd done. Which…admittedly…wasn't much. It wasn't anything. She told him she admired him and he held her hand. He said 'thank you.' So why did butterflies rise in her stomach ever time she looked at him, every time his voice rose, cold and emotionless, from the other side of the saddle? Why did her heart flutter whenever she thought about the warmth of his hand or the closeness of their bodies before the open flame?

She didn't want to go back in a conventional sense, but everything else about her pulled her to him. And it pulled her out of her sleeping skins and away from her snoring brother right into Zuko's private campsite. He never camped next to them. He always avoided them. But he never spoke to them unless he needed something. He was very unlike what she had anticipated.

When Aang had told her, Sokka, and Toph about the new addition to their little troupe Katara had been apprehensive. Their former enemy joining their group? Even if he had helped them out of Ba Sing Se, he wasn't trustworthy. He wasn't safe. He was Prince Zuko, exiled heir of the Fire Nation. What reason did they have to trust a firebender, much less a firebender prince?

And this was where Sokka's thinking was. Every opportunity that arose Sokka said something demeaning or rude about the Fire Nation, firebenders, or Zuko. He was relentless in a way Katara, quite frankly, found annoying. It was bad enough that Zuko had lost his uncle, but to have Sokka harping on him all the time…Katara actually felt bad for the prince. She felt bad for anyone that had to put up with her stupid brother for long periods of time.

Perhaps that had been why she'd finally defended Zuko. Yes, she'd yelled at him, but she'd yelled at Sokka more. And that was kind of like defending him. That, and Zuko hadn't done anything to them…while they were traveling together. After they 'joined up' he never even spoke to them. He was quiet and withdrawn and…kind of depressed.

The night before it had been guilt and sleeplessness that had drawn her to his campfire. But tonight? What had drawn her tonight? True, she always had a hard time sleeping with a large moon, but she never had wandering feet like she had now. She slipped out of her sleeping skins and padded gently over to Zuko's fire.

Was it just her imagination…or did he seem to be waiting for her? She took a seat next to him, not close enough to be touching but close enough to feel the heat of his body. He didn't say a word, and neither did she. She was oddly comfortable, oddly at peace with the young firebender. She had not expected…had not anticipated…feeling this way when she approached him the night before. She thought he would yell and curse her, send her away. She never expected him to grab hold of her hand, thank her, and sit with her late into the night wordlessly.

But she had enjoyed it. She'd…enjoyed it quite a lot. And she'd enjoyed him. Why? Who could know? It certainly wasn't his amusing wordplay. And it wasn't his stunning personality… Part of it could have been a certain fascination she had for the young prince. His scar intrigued her…made her think that he was human…fallible. He always acted so inhumanly cold – colder than any waterbender she'd ever met. And they were, by rule, a chilly crew. And part of it was her wishing to find good in everyone she met, find a reason behind their actions.

It was true he was handsome…in his own way. He might have been a real prince charming had it not been for the scar. But Katara thought the scar made him more attractive. Scars meant things; they proved a person was possible of living through great hardship, that they were more than just a body and words. Katara was more than a little attracted to him physically, but she thought lots of boys were cute. Haru was cute. And Jet was cute (albeit an ass). His looks weren't the reason she felt drawn to him.

After a long time sitting, Katara remembered her excuse. "I brought you some food," she offered, picking up the fish she'd wrapped in a leaf and the rice that had been extra from her campfire. "You looked like you were running low on supplies."

He gave her a grateful kind of look and she watched him eat. He was so delicate with his manners and his proper, straight back. Even though they were out in the middle of nowhere he was still acting the prince. It made Katara smile a little bit.

"What?" he asked, his voice sharp. He must have thought she was laughing at him or something.

"Nothing," she replied. "You know…we usually have extra food," she said softly. "It would be okay if you ate with us. We're traveling together after all…"

He looked away, a dark shadow crossing his face. "I don't think I'm wanted there," he replied sullenly.

She pursed her lips. "Sokka's just a jerk. He's not the leader or anything – he's just the loudest."

He snorted, looked away, and didn't say anything. Slowly, dejectedly, Katara gathered the leaf wrapping and made to move away. Her hand was stilled by a warm grip on her wrist. Her eyes shot to his. His face betrayed nothing – no emotion. "You can stay," he said softly.

Katara didn't move for a moment, his hand still on her wrist. Then she bit her lip and sat down right next to Zuko, her slender shoulder against his strong one. His hand was shaking when he released her wrist and slid his fingers through hers. Was he nervous? With a bit more confidence, Katara rested her head on his shoulder. His body tensed noticeably, and she wondered if she had been too forward. But he didn't push her away. He didn't say anything. His hand tightened around hers.

Katara felt very content just then. Zuko's body relaxed against hers, his shoulder not so tense as it had been. And though they didn't say anything – perhaps with the fear that words might ruin it – it was meaningful nonetheless.

When Katara was almost too sleepy to hold Zuko's hand she slipped it away and stood, bowing awkwardly as she left for her own sleeping bag. Her emotions were a muddle…but her hands were so warm…and her heart soared just a little higher…


	5. Masks and Hands Part I

**CHAPTER FIVE:**

**MASKS AND HANDS**

_**PART I**_

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

Her hands were soft. His were not. They were covered in calluses. Firebending did that. His hands had been burned so many times it was a wonder he felt anything at all. But he felt her hands, smooth and gentle…healing.

He had expected hers to be callused, too. She was a peasant, after all. A lowly, dumb peasant. But her hands reminded him guiltily of his mother's hands. It was hard to shake that from his head.

Why was she doing this? Didn't she know this wasn't allowed? Couldn't she understand how forbidden this was?

But her soft, small hands tugged him down alleyways and side streets, slipping him like water between moving carts and crowds of people. She was faster than he would have thought, too.

"I think we lost them," she murmured, peeking her head out from the corner of the smelly alley she'd led them to. She sighed deeply, catching her breath.

Then, as if just realizing, she looked down at their joined hands and slipped hers away, a faint blush forming on her cheeks. _What a pretty blush…_ "Sorry," she offered in a small voice.

The sun was setting – he could feel it deep inside, even though he could see it just as well.

"You have to be more careful," she told him. "The Dai Li are dangerous," she warned him. "You should lose the mask," she finally advised him.

"I can't," he said darkly.

She looked up at him with innocent eyes. "Why not? You can't be _that _bad-looking."

"I just can't," he repeated.

She shrugged.

They waited for a long time. They waited until the sky was dark. They waited until the streets lost their clambering numbers. They waited until the night torches were lit. Finally she stood, using the wall to help her up. He stood as well. He watched her as she straightened her robes and picked invisible bits of dirt away from her sleeves.

"If you see me," she began softly. "You know, when you're not wearing the mask," she continued, looking up at him hopefully. "You should ask me out."

He watched her duck out of the alley with a flash of blue.

He followed her. He followed her all the way into the inner ring of the city, despite the fact that the Dai Li would _KILL _him if they caught him. He followed her all the way to her nice, upscale house.

"Katara!" the Avatar yelled, barreling out the door.

She smiled at him. She smiled and she lied. "I can't believe I got so lost!"

But Zuko was grinning. He had her name now.

"Katara," he mouthed. _Katara._


	6. Peeking

**CHAPTER SIX:**

**PEEKING**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

"Oh, _GODS!_ Just like that…oh, right there!"

"Katara…"

"_Don't stop!_ Just a little to the – oooohh…"

He couldn't see anything but the backs of their heads… He inched closer…closer still. His only coverage was a thick bit of foliage before the riverbed opened up. Just a little closer.

"Could you just – "

"Yah, sure."

Was that – THAT WAS _ZUKO'S_ VOICE! Closer and closer still, he crept so that he could peer over the foliage.

"Ohhhhh…that's the spot. Harder. Harder! Ohhh, just… Where did you get so good at this?"

"I dunno…practice…"

"Oh! Just a little lower…"

He felt his pants tighten at her groans, thankful that they were loose to begin with. He bit his lips, listened to her soft moans of pleasure.

"Are you almost finish –"

"No! Keep going…oh, this is wonderful!"

He could almost see…

"Ohhh…oh, that was lovely…"

"Well, just don't tell anyone…"

"Like they'll even believe me, Zuko."

Their voices were coming closer; they were walking towards him.

"Aang?"

He was kneeling on the ground when Katara's concerned face appeared above him. "What are you doing here?"

He could feel his face heat up, and his apprehension and arousal turn to embarrassment and horror. They were both fully clothed, and Zuko had a grouchy look on his face.

"Well?" Zuko barked.

"I – I was –" he stammered. "What were _you_ doing?"

Katara's face contorted into an ugly look. "My big, dumb, stupid brother poured itching powder down by back." She looked furious for a moment. "That reminds me…I have a bone to pick with that hog-monkey…"

She walked off in a huff.

Zuko was still looking down on him with dark, glowering eyes, his arms crossed. "Pervert..." he muttered, shaking his head and stalking away.


	7. Thanks

**CHAPTER SEVEN:**

**THANKS**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

Mindless, mindless, mindless. Katara hated sewing. It was so unsatisfying – mostly because no one was thankful and no one cared. No one cared unless there were holes in their pants.

"Damnit!" she snapped under her breath, sucking on her finger.

Not to mention there was that little problem that her thimble had been missing since yesterday afternoon.

She looked up at Aang, who was making adorable mooneyes at her. "I'm okay," she said stiffly.

"I know." He held out his orange cape.

Katara fought to not glare at the younger boy as he hopped onto the head of their flying bison with swift grace.

Katara muttered to herself. "Stupid freakin', jerk-face, selfish, idiot, insensitive –" She wrenched her hand harshly and cried out again.

But instead of sticking it into her mouth and pouting, a quick hand grasped her wrist. She gasped inaudibly at the amazing speed of the prince – he had sat next to her and snatched her hand without her even noticing.

The droplet of blood oozed from her finger as he pinched the tip. Then, tenderly, slowly, he brought it to his mouth. Katara felt her breathing quicken, and her voice caught in her throat. His tongue danced on the tip of her finger, his lips soft and warm.

"You should be more careful," he murmured softly, eyes boring into hers.

Katara knew her mouth was open in awe, in surprise, and in desire. She slowly closed her mouth and nodded just imperceptibly. Her eyes glazed over as he stood swiftly and moved to the opposite side of Appa's saddle. It was then that she noticed the red, torn shirt in her lap.

"– worthless, ungrateful, pain in the ass, egocentric…"


	8. Spies Come Out of the Water

**CHAPTER EIGHT:**

**SPIES COME OUT OF THE WATER**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

Why couldn't he look away? Why couldn't he leave? Why couldn't he move?

Her body was so supple, so delicate and gorgeous. He knew when he joined them…he'd never be able to get over her. Not her. Not her sweet blue eyes or her plump, inviting lips. Not her amazing legs or her graceful curves. Not her soft skin…or her breasts.

Her hair – so thick and dark – was piled on top of her head as she sat curved over her feet. She was scrubbing them with a cloth, a soft smile on her face. Her lower back dimpled with the pressure on her beautiful, perfect ass. He could squeeze that gorgeous backside all day…

Her head craned over her shoulder when a fish jumped in Zuko's direction. He was sure he was caught, but she merely laughed and squeezed the rag over her back, letting the water ripple down, down over her hips and backside.

He could barely stand the sight of her hands on her own skin, watching her run light fingers over her arms and stomach, even over her breasts…perky, sweet, full…breasts. And when she stretched her arms over her head, arching back and falling into the water…if he was braver he would have snuck up behind her…

But if he was braver he would be able to get near to her. He would be able to look her in the eye. He would be able to speak to her. He couldn't do any of this, and she looked right through him.

He could shame himself looking at her like this… But she was too beautiful to look away from. Especially as she rose out of the water, inch by inch…

…right in front of him.

Her eyes were wide and clear…curious…and she only rose up to her chin, staying mostly covered by water. She didn't _LOOK_ mad…but Zuko backed away anyway, feeling a bit crazed and delirious at her proximity. He wanted to run away.

"Where are you going?"

Zuko swallowed harshly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I –"

She turned her head to the side. "You're always here," she said softly. "I can feel the water heat as soon as you step in."

Gods, she was right! How could he give himself away so easily?

She had gotten very, very close, and Zuko was backed against a rock – nowhere to go. She bit her lower lip as she stood before him. "I'll scrub your back if you scrub mine."


	9. Eight Days

**CHAPTER NINE:**

**EIGHT DAYS**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

The first day she had cried – silently and softly.

The second day she had slept – fitfully with little twitches.

The third day she stopped eating – she looked at food disinterestedly and lamely.

The fourth day she was force-fed – which she promptly vomited up afterwards, though perhaps on accident.

The fifth day she began to shake – whether it was cold or lack of nutrition he didn't know.

The sixth day he came to her and yelled – but he yelled at her for things that were not her fault, that had nothing to do with her imprisonment, that made no sense to her.

The seventh day she could not keep her eyes open – she had not eaten and she had not spoken for seven days.

The eighth day her friends came – ransacked his ship and defeated him so easily.

Despite the failure, despite the destroyed ship, despite the angry feelings, Zuko did not think of anything but her. He would do anything to have her back.

It had been her eyes. Even when she was crying, even when she would not speak, even when she had been weak and on the verge of death…those eyes haunted him. Sharp, magnetic, defiant, proud, blue eyes. The first blue eyes he had ever seen.


	10. Masks and Hands Part II

**CHAPTER TEN:**

**MASKS AND HANDS**

_**Part II**_

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

"That boy could have been me…"

She jumped, dropping the folded dress in her hands. Now where would she have gotten a dress as nice as that? Her eyes had become wide in surprise, but then she blushed a little and smiled gently. "I would have been able to tell."

Zuko jumped off the window ledge he was sitting on, approaching her with catlike movements. "How's that?" he purred, pacing around behind her, circling her. Why did he want to taunt her so?

She looked away. "I just would."

He could smell her hair he was so close. She smelled like snow and jasmine. "How?" he whispered in her ear.

She jumped away from him. "So…why are you here?"

"I wanted to thank you," he replied in a dry voice, inspecting the rest of the home. It was a hell of a lot nicer than the crappy little shack he shared with his uncle.

"Oh, well, you're welcome…" She glanced sideways at him. "I'm Katara."

He grunted. He already knew that.

"I guess you can't give me your name, either…" she said softly, bending down to pick up the dress she was carrying.

"Not really." He eyed her curiously behind his mask. "So, if you're not going with that boy, who are you going with?"

She looked a little bit uncomfortable as she folded the dress. "I – I'll be going with my brother…and my friends…"

Zuko hummed, pacing around her again. It made her nervous, and she swerved her head to look at him apprehensively. Over the past week or so he had watched her silently – it wasn't in a perverted way! He watched her and her friends interact, followed her into the market (she did ALL the shopping), and gazed through windows as she kept house. Was she their mother or their companion? Sometimes it was hard to tell, as she was able to scold every one of them – including her brother – and be a waterbending master to the Avatar, and manage to fight side by side with the best of them.

She took his silence in stride, pacing over to the table and picking up a greenish, gold-lined document. "The celebration…tonight…if you decide to come…"

She pushed it into his hands, and Zuko was allowed to feel their softness once more.

"What if I don't show up?"

"What if you do?"

How had she taken the power away? He'd been in control. He'd had her on edge. And now…why was he backing away from her? Why was he fumbling for the window? Why was so she close?

Her eyes reflected the blue mask back to him. She licked her lips softly, reaching to the sides of his mask. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. Part of him wanted her to know. But if she knew he could never be close to her like he was just then.

Her body brushed against his gently, slapping him back into reality. His hands closed over her wrists. He shook his head softly.

"Okay," she told him.

He ran away then.


	11. Alcohol

**CHAPTER ELEVEN:**

**ALCOHOL**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

Whereas the Avatar and his companions have never imbibed the devil's drink, Zuko has become familiar with it during his time of exile. Sailors drunk. It was like saying birds flew or wood floated. Like many firebenders, alcohol does not agree with the destructive nature of his personality. It drives his anger to heights, throws his depression to depths, and carves deep holes in longing desires.

Sokka and the Avatar laugh. The blind girl laughs. Even his uncle laughs. But Katara has sense in her. Her element is one of liquid – like alcohol she enflames him. She takes drinks in stride. Like many waterbenders, alcohol needs to be taken in large amounts to cause inebriation. She drinks with quiet observation, often watching her companions with soft, motherly looks. She partakes in the drink, but not the chaotic celebration.

What are they celebrating? Oh, yes, the Avatar has turned thirteen. He says it is a tradition for airbenders to become drunk on this day. It is said airbenders made the most exquisite alcohols and liquors – beers and wines, too.

So they have bought alcohol in mass quantities, celebrating age and tradition with laughter and hilarity.

It is dark, the fire is low, and Zuko does not drink with the rest of them. They have laughed themselves to sleep, tired of trying to make him join them, tired of drinking and singing bad songs, tired of dancing and making fools of themselves under the stars. They have stopped trying to make the animals drink, and the blind girl is thrown over the legs of the Avatar, resting her head on the Water Tribe boy's chest. His uncle has passed out with a hand on his generous stomach – the other holds a half empty bottle of sake. It has been a long time since he's seen his uncle drink. Usually he does not drink unless it is tea. _Traditions must be observed_, he told Zuko after his third or fourth saucer of sake. And Katara…

Katara is sitting, her back straight and an empty saucer of sake at her knees. She has two empty bottles at her feet, lined nicely. She probably cannot count the number of drinks she's had. Zuko looks at her, but she does not look at him. She looks at nothing.

Of all the Avatar's companions, Katara is the most enigmatic. The rest are easy to judge, easy to understand. Sokka is loud and abrasive with moments of genius. Toph is sarcastic and blunt, but powerful – and caring when no one is looking. Aang is rarely serious and laughs constantly – his potential for power outweighs any Zuko has ever seen. But Katara…what is Katara?

She is always right. She is soft and feminine. She is caring and passionate. She is aggressive and domineering. She is powerful and ambitious. She is hard to control, and even harder to anticipate. She is wild like her element. She is cold like her element. She is soft like her element. She can ruin as easily as she can heal.

"Stop it," she says softly.

Her eyes are on his now. She's caught him. His guard was down. He should have been more careful with his eyes – but she caught him looking and now she is…mad? No, that could not be it. Her eyes say a thousand things that she does not say herself as she crawls to him. No one should look so beautiful on all fours.

She does not stumble or sway in the motion typical of drunkards. Her eyes are not unclear, and her cheeks are not heated – unless it is only slightly by heat of the fire. Slowly, sensually, she bites her lip, pushing with soft hands on his shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

"Shhh…" she murmurs, following him onto the ground.

He cannot move or think…but he can smell the sake on her breath – sweet and bitter at once. And he can judge by the look in her eyes that she is not to be trifled with just then – she wants something from him.

Her gentle hand is planted on the center of his chest, and she pins him to the ground without aggression. Zuko knew he would not – _could not_ – push her off. He doesn't want to. Her legs straddle his hips – she is so light. How could a person be such an amazing bender, so powerful and advanced, and be so light? Zuko almost snorted. He has a beautiful woman perched on his hips and he's thinking about bending? Was he mad?

With her other hand she traces his lips, her thumb flipping over the bottom one and down his chin. He thought she meant to turn the scarred half of his face away from her – if this had been the case he would have thrown her off of him in anger. But she bends her head down, close to his, her soft breaths tickling his ear. Then, just as easily as she crept over to him, she takes his earlobe in her teeth and gives it a gentle tug. He doesn't react – he waits with a patience he's never known – as her tongue passes over his earlobe tenderly, experimentally.

She is licking and nibbling the curve of his ear, driving him wild. Then she stops, pulls away just enough to speak. Her lips brush his ear only slightly. "Sometimes I watch you, too," she whispers silkily, the words more sensual and arousing than she knows. "They're so confusing…these things I think and feel…and you never made sense to me…"

She can't be anything but drunk. She would never say these things – _DO _these things – if she was not. But her words are not slurred, and her motions are fluid as always as she braces herself – one hand on his chest and one on the ground by his head – and kisses his neck.

Zuko's hands dig into the sleeping furs. He would have touched her if he thought it wouldn't scare her away. But she doesn't act scared as she let her teeth skim across the flesh of his neck. Her lips are soft, warm, and sinuous in the way they moved. She does not move fast – she moves like she is waiting for something, like she is anticipating something else. Her tongue flickers over his flesh and he nearly dies of pleasure.

Her kisses finally trail up his chin, and she gingerly takes his lower lip between her teeth and sucks on it. It is not quite a kiss. She pulls back slowly, her nose almost touching his as she peers into his eyes.

"You can kiss me now, Zuko," she says in dulcet tones.

**A/N:** This was inspired by a wonderful fic called _**Emperors and Queens**_by** Mystikat**. You really should go read it…


	12. Wild Horses

**CHAPTER TWELVE:**

**WILD HORSES**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

The rain fell over the cliffs. If he had not known her better he would have been scared she would follow it. But he did know her. The rain soaked through her robes, tightened them across her body. It filled her hair.

"I don't want to fight anymore," she said in a soft voice.

"The war isn't over."

She inhaled. The rain poured over her like libations on an altar. It was her element, her home. She could have easily deflected it, but it joined her tears. She did not want people to know she knew how to do that.

"I meant with you. I hate you, Zuko."

Her head turned downwards.

"You betrayed us."

He said nothing. There was nothing to say.

"This is all your fault."

She spoke the truth. It was all his fault.

"I should kill you."

He stiffened at this. "I don't think you can," he said with confidence. But when she turned to him he felt that confidence waver.

When she glared at him her eyes were darker than he had ever seen. Then she turned back to the sea – turned back to her rain and pain and waves and clouds. She turned back to her element and all its suffering. She turned back to her element and all its vicious anger. Her small hands curled into fists at her sides. Zuko watched as her nails finally bit through her palms, and blood began to ooze onto the ground, mixing with the mud to make an ugly red color.

She sighed. "When I turn around," she began, her voice a hard, cold monotone that betrayed no emotion, "you should be gone. I never want to see you again."

He looked at her one last time. Then he turned. He would never again know how it felt to hold her in his arms.

_Faith has been broken; tears must be cried.__  
__Let's do some living after we die._


	13. First Kiss

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN:**

**FIRST KISS**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

She tried to imagine…but she couldn't. Once or twice she had been close...

But what would it feel like? Would her heart race? Would her hands tremble? Would her heart thump with need? What would she do with her feet? What would she do with her _hands_?! Would it be sweet and slow? Or would it be wild and passionate?

She blushed, thankful it was dark. She did not want anyone to suspect what she was thinking. Her gaze landed on Zuko – the newest addition to their campfire…and the least likely person she should have turned to after serious thoughts about kissing. Her fingers went to her lips, and she tore them away. Honestly! How could she even be considering Zuko!?

Then she blushed again, looking away. She was thankful he hadn't noticed. Perhaps she was just remembering the velvety quality of his voice. Whoever she was going to let kiss her would have to have that same voice. Or maybe she was remembering his slender, tapering fingers…and his broad shoulders…and his sharp golden eyes…and his inviting lips… Her eyes slid over him again.

But this time his eyes caught hers. He wasn't quite frowning…but he was definitely confused. He never spoke to her. He never looked at her. He always avoided her. Katara shivered, biting her lower lip as she looked away.

Why was she imagining his lips on hers? Why was she imagining his hands on her skin? Why was she imagining their bodies close, moving against each other in the dark?


	14. Scars

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN:**

**SCARS**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

"Oh! Oh, gods, I'm sorry!"

He turned around just soon enough to see the waterbender cover her eyes and turn into the trunk of a tree as she tried to leave the riverbed.

"Ah!" she cried, falling back on her behind and causing Zuko to smirk.

He moved out of the river – he was nearly done anyway – and put his pants back on. She was sitting, moaning and rubbing her forehead.

"I'm so sorry," she said miserably, not looking at him. "It really was an accident. I –"

"Don't worry about it," he said quickly. He actually felt kind of sorry for her – she was so flustered and embarrassed.

Her lower lip was between her teeth as she attempted a sideways look at him. Her eyes grew wide and she flushed again, turning away.

"Haven't you ever seen a guy shirtless?" he asked with a smirk. He rather enjoyed this for some reason.

"Well – I – _not really!_" she said, looking over at him again with an apprehensive, but brave, face. "I mean, Aang and Sokka are just _boys_… I saw a couple of guys in an earthbending tournament once…they weren't really…_men_…" But her voice drowned off as her eyes scanned his chest and stomach. Her face was no longer red. She looked…rather curious.

Zuko laughed at this. "Like what you see?" he asked boldly.

She pursed her lips, daring a look into his eyes before they went back to his chest. "Well…it's just…" she reached a small, sun-browned hand towards him. "You have so many scars…" she finished finally, snatching her hand back before she touched him.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I earned every one of them," he said with a stony voice. _Even the one on my eye_, he thought darkly.

He was surprised when she touched him – no one really touched him unless he was fighting. Her hand was soft but electric, and surprisingly not shaking at all. "What about this one?" she asked, her fingers brushing lightly over a jagged, multi-pronged scar over his right pectoral.

"Lance through the shoulder," he replied. "It was just last year."

She made a face, but touched another scar that wound around from his navel to his mid-back. She traced it lightly, her fingers lingering and sending little shocks all over his skin. "And this one?" she asked curiously.

"I fell from a smokestack onto a support wire when I was fourteen," he explained. "I was lucky it didn't cut me in half."

She bit her bottom lip in the most adorable way, her light finger caressing over a thick gash on his ribs. "And here?" she asked, her voice soft and low.

"A mace," he replied. "I broke two ribs, and most of the scarring is because of the resetting of the bones."

The way her eyes traveled up his chest made him nervous. She opened her mouth then seemed to think better. He was relieved she would not ask. He was relieved because he would tell her if she did. "You must be strong," she said quietly. "To live through all that…"

His jaw set harshly. "I've always had to struggle and fight. It's made me strong…made me who I am."

Her eyes were wide and soft. Though he and his uncle now traveled with the Avatar, Zuko rarely spoke to any of them. This girl, Katara, was different. She'd always been different.

"Anyway," he said, changing to subject before she could say something kind. It was on the tip of her tongue, he could tell. He didn't want her kindness…he didn't really deserve it. "Don't you have any scars?"

Her eyes shifted to the side. "Well…yes…"

He raised an eyebrow in question.

She bit her lip. "I'll show you…but you have to promise not to tell my brother I did."

Without a word from him she turned away from him and began to untie her sash. Zuko sat in anxious anticipation, completely taken off-guard by her straightforward nature as she let her blue robes fall off her shoulders. Her skin was a soft color of mocha, all the way down the slender column of her neck, and to the swerving curve of her waist. The robes dropped until a thin, raised scar became visible, retreating under her chest wrap.

"I got it in Ba Sing Se," she explained softy, turning over her shoulder to look at him. At that moment she was the picture of sexuality, her robes dipping down her back, neck craned to look at him, hair pulled over her shoulder… "I had a run-in with the Dai Li."

Then she bit her lip and looked away. Before she could pull the robes over her shoulders once more, Zuko touched the scar. She looked back at him again, and her robes slid down further to expose her lower back. He ran his fingers over the scar several times. He did not normally touch other people – _not unless he was fighting them_. He had not realized that skin was so soft. His hand went to the curve of her waist, in awe at the grace and softness of her body.

"Zuko?" she asked softly. He jerked his hand away. She pulled her blue, Water Tribe robes over her shoulders once more, and then turned to him. "How did you get that scar?"


	15. Need

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN:**

**NEED**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

"This has got to stop," she moaned.

He knew it did, but with her legs around his hips and her hands pulling him closer…

"I know," he replied, slamming her against the wall as his lips met hers, bracing her there forcefully.

She moaned again, and he pulled at her robes, practically ripping off her chest wrap in an effort to reach her breasts. He hitched her a little higher, breaking contact with her eager mouth to suckle on her breasts. Her skin was so sweet, and her breasts were full and round – he loved them, and the dark skin of her areolas, and the tight little nipples. She whimpered when his teeth sunk lightly down on her nipple, flicking his tongue over it. She dragged her nails up his bare back and scalp – though not painfully. It drove him wild.

"You're married," she reasoned breathlessly.

He knew this too, but that didn't stop her from crying out in pleasure as he dropped his pants and impaled her with vigorous urgency. She was tight and hot. He'd never known such pleasure…not with anyone but her…

"Katara…" he murmured into her neck.

She arched her back and bit her bottom lip. He knew she liked to be loud. But they couldn't be too loud – the walls had ears… He gripped her thighs, her ass, thrust in and out of her slowly, watching her gasp and shudder with every movement. She kissed his neck, urging him on… "Faster," she whispered sinuously. "Harder," she moaned lustily. "More," she cried softly.

It was no effort to support her, but even his knees grew weak when she began to orgasm. She had the most achingly beautiful climax – it was her eyes; it was her noises. It was then when love shone brightest in her eyes. It was then she moaned his name over and over and over again. "_Zuko…_" she whispered. "Zuko…Zuko…"

He released within her – the pressure was too much, the pleasure too painful, the need too deep. He wanted her with child. He took her almost every day, hoping and praying his seed took. He wanted to tie her to him forever. He wanted her breathy moans and sexy sighs. He wanted to make love to her as she woke up, before she went to sleep, and in secluded hallways and deserted rooms.

He stayed inside of her, bracing them both against the wall with weak legs. She was kissing his neck, caressing his back, telling him how wonderful he was, pulling his earlobe between her teeth in her own gesture of fondness. Could any woman be more perfect?

"We shouldn't do this anymore," she told him softly, sadly. Her eyes were full of longing though, as she wrapped her robes around herself. "We can't." She pursed her lips. "The palace has eyes and ears everywhere – you told me yourself."

"I don't care," he murmured, backing her against the wall, kissing her again. She kissed him greedily in return. She didn't want to stop. She just didn't want to get caught. "Come to my rooms tonight," he commanded her.

"But Lady –"

"My wife no longer shares my bed," he growled, nipping at the curve of her neck. She was so responsive, her hands were already on his body, arousing him again. "She is barren…five years and no child…she is barren…"

She tilted her head to give him access to her neck. She was so pliant this way – they always said that if you should take a concubine she should be from the Water Tribe. They were passionate, always willing, and full of desire. Katara was all these things. And beautiful, so exotic with her dark skin and piercing blue eyes. She stood out in the Fire Nation – she made an excellent conversation starter. Everyone always had something to say about the beautiful ambassador from the Southern Water Tribe.

"Come tonight," he urged her again, hands cupping her breasts.

When she nodded he kissed her again, sweeping away from her and out of the deserted room. Tonight he would have her again.


	16. Masks and Hands Part III

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN:**

**MASKS AND HANDS**

_**PART III**_

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

The risk he took was sensational. He never felt more alive than when he was close on the edge of death and freedom. The mask gave him that – allowed him to be dangerous and not himself all at once. And now, crouched in the shadows, the Dai Li littering the causeways and patrolling the corners, Zuko felt more alive than ever.

He smirked when he saw her, hair and face done up in the style of Earth Kingdom high society. But she was a peasant, and it almost showed. If she had any less grace, or her build was any different than her petite features, then she might have been caught. She wore the robes that she had been carrying earlier that day.

He followed her from the shadows, watching her talk to men and boys, watching her get pulled away by her idiot brother. He should be fearing Zuko and the mask she was so drawn to, not these worthless earthebenders that didn't catch her attention for more than thirty seconds.

It was just his luck that it was the Garden and Lantern Festival. That meant dark corners. A flick of his wrist could extinguish any offending lanterns…he could take her off guard so easily. And he followed her into the gardens – it was popular to walk there in young couples, sneak kisses in the dark. She walked alone, a fan before her face modestly.

He stopped for a moment, watching her curiously as she rounded a corner and snapped her fan closed. She sighed, massaging her neck gently and looking up at the stars.

He couldn't stand it anymore. After watching and following her, the memory of her soft hands, her innocent ways and gentle speech…he disappeared into the night. She didn't seem to notice when the closest lantern went out. She didn't seem to hear the light rustle in the bushes as he moved around her. She didn't seem to be aware of the presence behind her.

"I came," he whispered, voice deluded by the mask he wore.

She jumped off the bench into a fighting stance, but when she saw the mask she put a hand over her heart and breathed a sigh of relief. "You surprised me," she said softly, retaking her seat on the bench.

Zuko leapt deftly to her side, sitting with one foot on the edge of the bench as if ready to bolt. Her voice almost made him bolt… "I kind of expected…well, not the Blue Spirit…"

"I don't think anyone would appreciate it if I appeared without the mask," he replied, half amused and half upset.

She was quiet for a while. Then she bit her lip and threw him a sideways look. "Do I know you?"

He tried so hard not to react, but when she asked it he felt his body tense and he wanted to run. "Why do you ask that?"

"You seem…familiar. You move in a way that…it reminds me of someone…I don't know who," she mused softly.

"What if you did know me?" he asked her, afraid of her answer. Though he could not fathom why, it was important that she saw him as something different than he was. Was that the reason for the mask, to help her see something different? To help everyone see something different?

"What if you know me," he began softly, "but you hate me? Then what would you do?"

She looked at him, as if willing herself to be able to see through the mask. "What are you saying?" she asked, her voice confused. "Do I _know_ you?"

He couldn't answer. He couldn't answer because she leapt at him with grace and quickness he forgot she possessed. She pinned him on the bench – though he was only trapped by surprise and the gentle curves of her legs and hips. Her hands were quick to find the chin of his mask and she lifted it…

For a moment time felt frozen. Katara's head turned to the side, her eyes glazed over with surprise and confusion. She looked down on him, letting the mask drop off his forehead onto the bench. It fell to the ground. She was searching his face, no doubt trying to put together all she had said and done under the impression that the Blue Spirit was not her former-enemy.

"Z…Zuko?" she asked in a soft, small voice.

She did not move off him, and he did not try to escape.

After an odd, encompassing moment of silence, she blinked. "Why?"

He felt as if he couldn't form words. And even if he could, his voice might not be able to say them. Slowly he reached back and put the mask over his face. He put his hands on her hips, moving her off of him slowly but deliberately. She swallowed when they stood facing each other, her blue eyes wide and shining.

He sunk away in the darkness…but her voice caused him to stop. "You don't have to go!"


	17. Walking After You

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:**

**WALKING AFTER YOU**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

She wheeled, ready to slap him. But his hand was too quick, too strong. He was always too quick and too strong. She struggled against his iron grip – one hand held each wrist.

"_Let me go_," she hissed violently.

"No," he replied, the fire in his eyes vicious and bright.

Would it always be like this? Fight, Fire, Forgiveness? Zuko couldn't go a day without confrontation. Katara's personality was not made to withstand constant anger.

"Can't you see I'm trying to apologize?" he growled at her.

She pursed her lips angrily. "Can't you see I'm tired of apologies?"

She wrenched her hand away, cutting the grip on the other with a surge of water. He blocked an attack, and they set themselves in fighting stances. It was Katara that broke first. She stood full height and gave Zuko an angry look. Then she turned her head and walked away.

She had not anticipated he would continue his attack. They weren't enemies, after all, they were lovers. But he knocked her down with ruthless efficiency, pinning her down below his body weight and crossing her hands over her head.

"You're going to listen to this, Katara," he said intimidatingly, the darkness of the night nothing compared to the darkness of his voice.

"And you're going to regret this as soon as you let me go," she replied, though she knew her threat was weakened by the fact that she was already responding to him. Damn him! He knew her so well, knew his body heat and his closeness would endear her to him. Damn him…

She tried to stiffen angrily when he kissed her neck, nibbling her most tender spot with ruthless cunning. He always touched her like he was conquering something. His tongue and his lips sucked and caressed her neck, making her bite her bottom lip. The pressure on her wrists increased as he moved most of his weight to them. His other hand moved up her hips and cupped her breast through her robes. She stifled a moan when he massaged her breast and thumbed over her sensitive nipples.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said finally, it was a low, silky whisper in her ear. "I didn't know…"

Her breathing came faster as his lips descended on hers. "I'm sorry, Katara," he murmured against her lips. "Don't leave me."

He caught her lips gently, kissing her like he loved her. Maybe he did.

_If you'd accept surrender, I'll give up some more…  
Weren't you adored?  
I cannot be without you, matter of fact._

**A/N:** "Walking After You" is by the Foo Fighters.


	18. Closer

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:**

**CLOSER**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

_Katara_

She was an outline of blue in a red world. She was like a mysterious puzzle piece trying to join in the wrong puzzle.

"I just don't fit."

_Zuko_

He could not stop her. He had no hold on her. But it was easy to see that he had no fire in his eyes when she stepped onto the docks.

"There isn't anything here for you?"

_Katara_

She had taken the verbal abuse. It was not that which drove her away. She had understood her place, and she'd stayed in it. She was a peasant. A powerful waterbender. A skilled diplomat. A valuable pawn. But a peasant.

"The only thing I want is the only thing I can't have."

_Zuko_

He could only watch. She was a ribbon on the winds, her robes flying her colors high. Her hair had come loose. And he could only watch.

"If we had been different people?"

_Katara_

She looked at him for the last time. He had become a man – a good man. He would have made her happy.

"If we had been different people."

_Zuko_

He saw her ship set sail – the low, streamline build of a Water Tribe ship was so foreign to these waters they had gained a crowd. He watched her, and was a lone column of sadness in the happy faces around him. Now that she was gone he did not fit, either.

"If we had been different people…"

**A/N:** This drabble was inspired by a Death Cab for Cutie song called "Transatlanticism" off the _Transatlanticism_ album. The whole album is really amazing and beautiful – I recommend giving it a listen.


	19. Loss

**CHAPTER NINETEEN:**

**LOSS**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

She was always the first line of defense. She was the reason the attacks had to begin at dawn – it was the time of day when her power was weakest. If they were going to have any chance at defeating the rebels, they had to take down their first line of defense.

Then the sullen earthbender.

Finally the Avatar himself, the golden center of the rebellion that trained to defeat his father.

The attack was successful – he had disposed of a fleet of Water Tribe ships carrying supplies to the small, underground rebellion some distance out of Omashu. The rebels were meeting the ships in an inlet off the coast. They were led by the Water Tribe brother and sister…

The first line of defense was Katara, and she was a waterbender. He knew her to be a formidable opponent, and he could not underestimate her. He would not underestimate her again.

But he had not seen her in this light before. She was tired; her hair fell loosely around her shoulders and down her back. She clutched something to her chest as she knelt on the ground. Every once in a while she would shiver, her back shaking.

The rain seemed to pour from all directions, and though she could probably shield herself she did not. The ground she was kneeling on was muddy and soft.

"It didn't have to be this way," she said aloud.

"I failed you."

She cried out, doubling over and sobbing.

The river rushed before her. There were pieces of debris and parts of ship washing up. Who had been on that ship? Who had she lost?

And why did Zuko care?


	20. Wish You Were Here

**CHAPTER TWENTY:**

**WISH YOU WERE HERE**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

I don't know who started it, and I don't know who felt what first, but eventually we were gazing longingly. And then the soft touches, the caresses in the dark. And soon after that the stolen kisses, gasps in the night.

He always came to me in the night, and we hoped darkness would shield us from prying eyes. And our own consciences. After all, the shadows conceal all manner of sins and acts of desire…why couldn't it conceal one more?

…Forbidden lust and desire, desperate touches, crashing lips…

We might have kept our_selves_ at arm's length, but we never kept our _passion _at arm's length. When we were together no touch, no kiss, no act was taboo. We loved each other in a thousand ways, but not in the ways that mattered most. We couldn't in the ways that mattered most…

It is amazing how someone can be an arm's length away from you, and yet you can't ever reach them. Why is he so far away? Why is he so distant? I could just reach out and feel his skin under mine…but I could never touch him…

_We're just two lost souls  
Swimming in a fish bowl,  
Year after year,  
Running over the same old ground.  
What have we found?  
The same old fears. _

_Wish you were here. _

**A/N:** "Wish You Were Here" is an excellent, depressing song by Pink Floyd. I have to confess that the album, _Wish You Were Here_, is my favorite – even more than _The Wall _and_Dark Side of the Moon_. Though_ Dark Side of the Moon_ is close.


	21. Skin

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:**

**SKIN**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

He was chronically awake with the sun. It didn't matter if he'd been up half the night or been in bed by sundown – he rose with the sun. And as he woke, feeling the sun empower his fire and awaken his bending, he always moved right towards her.

Her chocolaty hair was fanned about her face and trailing wavy tendrils down her back. She faced him in sleep, her breathing soft and soothing, her lips slightly parted. One of her hands was next to her face, but the other was splayed on his chest.

It always amazed him how startlingly different their skin tones were. His people were usually pale, with dark black or dark brown hair. Her people were usually tanned, with thick, brownish or blackish hair. With her hand on his chest he could see the stark contrast of her skin to his.

He covered her hand with his, running his fingers up her arm and over her back. She was so soft…so fragile…so exotic… It had not taken long for him to notice her after he'd joined the Avatar. Then the war ended, and she stayed with him for some reason. Four years and she had not left. And she became his – but not his wife. Never his wife. It was cruel to keep her here. It was cruel to ask her to stay. But he did. And now she warmed his bed.

_At least Water Tribe wenches should be good at warming beds…_ The whispers persisted along this vein. They were usually more colorful, fouler. He kept these words from her when he could. He knew she heard at least half of them.

She sacrificed for him – even before they were lovers she had. It was in her nature to sacrifice for others, to bind herself with promises and love to those that needed her. And now she sacrificed her freedom, her whole being. What had she told him so long ago? _I am flawed if I'm not free…_ She was like her element, and water was not meant to be trapped, nor contained. It flowed freely, found the cracks and holes and silently wore down and eroded obstacles in its path.

His hand smoothed down her back, pushing away the red silken sheets to caress the skin of her thighs. He usually took his time waking her in the morning, and then making love to her. Though she was not an early riser, she was never grumpy. She woke languidly, with little yawns and stretches. It was a treat to watch her wake up.

"_Zuko…_" she murmured. He loved how his name was always the first word on her lips. "Mmmm…" she sighed, edging closer to him and kissing his collarbone softly and slowly.

With swiftness she usually reserved for later in the day, she threw her leg over him and straddled his hips. She looked almost angelic, her loose hair haloed in the light that seeped in through the windows. Her bare skin on his and the sight of her breasts made him hard. For a moment he just looked at her, a forbidden waterbender perched on his hips, her womanly warmth sliding against his throbbing manhood. He watched her sleepy smile as she stretched her hands over her head, her stomach and breasts growing taunt.

With gentle need, he moved her hips into position and hissed as she slid onto him, wet and warm and ready. She was always ready for him – even just at daybreak. He allowed himself to bask in her adoring looks, her rocking hips so like the ocean they both knew so well.

When she'd worn them both out she fell onto his chest, her long hair fluttering over them like a cape. "Zuko…" she murmured, kissing his neck, his cheek, his scarred ear and burnt flesh. He let her. But she was the only one. The only one ever. "Can we make a baby?"

He stiffened at this. Did she know the consequences of such an act? Did she realize that the child would forever be a bastard? Did she know what people would think of her if she became pregnant? If she thought what they said now was bad, wait until they knew she carried his child. What could he say to her to make her understand?

He hugged her slight frame to him tightly, his hands running over the skin of her back before rolling her onto her back and looking down on her. The contrast seemed so vivid in the early morning light. He wondered what color their would baby be.


	22. Lunar Sympathy

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:**

**LUNAR SYMPATHY**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

"What the hell are you doing?"

She does not turn around, but instead stands from her crouch with perfect (almost insanely perfect) balance on the prow of his ship. She wears only a thin, short, white shift – the only clothes she's been allowed since her capture. With her slight frame standing in the moon he can see straight through it.

"How did you get out?"

And she does not respond but to let her long hair loose in the frigid wind. They are too far south for such clothing – even Zuko wears a heavy red cloak as he rushes to her. She cannot get away…for more than one reason. (She's in the middle of the ocean; it's at least below freezing; he needs her to capture the Avatar; he needs her…to have her…)

"Just come down!"

Her reply is to reach her hands above her head to a point. The shift comes up above her thighs, and Zuko is allowed to see the curve of her buttocks. It strikes him how beautiful she really is.

She is ready to spring, her knees bent. Had he not been faster, better trained, he would have lost her. As it is she loses contact with the prow when his hands wrap around her waist.

He pulls her back and she lands with a soft grunt on top of him. He coughs, having had the wind knocked out of him. Her face is unnaturally soft and unsurprised when she looks down on him. His hands are still on her hips, and he can feel every curve of her body, cold and soft.

For a moment they are frozen there, and Zuko doesn't know if he's ever been in this exact situation before…a partially naked girl pressed against him in ways that make him realize not everything is about capturing the Avatar and restoring his honor. When her bottom lip begins to shake she bites it between her teeth. He wants…he wants…_something_…

She looks away from him then. "I wouldn't have gotten very far anyway," she whispers.

He just wants to touch her…

**A/N:** 'I am flawed if I'm not free,' is quoted from the Rilo Kiley song "Does He Love You?"


	23. Poison Hearts Will Never Change

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:**

**POISON HEARTS WILL NEVER CHANGE**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

"What's wrong with me…I can't breathe…"

"You're dying."

"I'm scared…"

"I'm here."

"Did you…did you do this…?"

"Yes."

"…Why?"

"It will be better this way."

"How can it be better?!" She coughed up blood. "I'm dying."

"Then we'll be together."

"I don't – I don't – I don't…" She coughed again, but this time she felt no pain. "I don't want to die."

"I know." He touched her cheek, brushing away a loose lock of hair. "But it's okay now."

"Why…why are you doing this?"

He smiled. She could see the light in his eyes paling. "Because I love you, Katara. Now we can be together."

"No! Get me water…I can still heal…" Her hands were shaking.

"It doesn't matter. He's won. Aang's dead. Father's won..."

"No…" They are her first tears. He covers them with his lips.

"I tried to save us, Katara…he's too strong…it was the best way…"

"No…" His breathing was soft on her cheeks. She couldn't seem to get enough air.

His lips touched hers for the first time. Why couldn't he have done this years ago?

"I can't breathe," she repeated. "I can't breathe…"

**A/N:** Stole the title from an AFI song.


	24. Hearts and Arrows

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:**

**HEARTS AND ARROWS**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

The _guan do_ sat across Sokka's knees and Katara watched as Sokka's experienced hands sharpened and shined the blade. The blade was as long as his arm, and the weapon was taller than Sokka and probably half the weight of Katara's body. He used it when battling benders, for it was ungainly with its weight and size. Sokka's prowess as a warrior was known and respected – feared by firebenders and praised by the rest. He was, as she, a former rebel, and a warrior-for-hire.

When Sokka was finished with the _guan do,_ he selected the _yumi_bow he'd picked up a few years ago and motioned for her. The quiver was tucked around his shoulders, and like the bow they were thick, long, and deadly. Using the _guan do_ as a climbing tool, Sokka stuck the large blade into the side of the building, slipping out the window of their rented apartment and balancing on the staff-handle of the enormous weapon. He offered Katara a hand and swung her onto the roof.

From her crouched position she could see the docks clearly and easily. She was hidden by the shadows, and when she looked down she saw the top of her brother's head, the _guan do_ impaled in the side of the building, the swinging sign of the apartment complex, and five barrels of water on the ground – what she had been seeking. Katara flipped the cork off her water skin and cemented the _guan do_ in the building with a coat of ice. Sokka nodded his silent thanks, poising the _yumi_ bow with all the skill of a Yu Yan archer. Few had the strength to draw a _yumi_ bow, for they were at least six feet in length and made from the strongest wood in the Earth Kingdom . Sokka was one such man.

Soon Katara spotted their target – Admiral Xu of the _Open Flame_, the Fire Lord's flagship of the Eastern Armada. She pointed him out to Sokka, who took aim slowly and deliberately. Admiral Xu was staggering drunkenly with a guard of white-masked firebenders. Sokka lowered his bow and motioned for Katara to take care of them. The group was several blocks away, but Katara was a waterbending master. She could take care of a target like that easily.

As the barrels released their water, Katara caught herself in the liquid's embrace. She literally surfed down the streets, silent as the wind. The water propelling her froze the firebender's feet to the ground, causing just enough disorder for Sokka's arrow to _thunk_ in the admiral's chest. It was a precision strike, and the admiral was dead on the ground.

Katara remained in the shadows to confirm the death, and the firebenders were a mass of confusion looking for the assassin. Sokka would, by now, have emptied the rented apartment of their belongings and escaped to the rendezvous. Katara was about to move out of her hiding spot to meet her brother when a flash of movement caught her attention. A figure in black was attacking the white-masked firebenders. The figure was quick and strong, and did not use any from of bending, but a pair of twin swords that flashed out like flame. When the firebenders were fallen, dead or injured on the ground, the figure turned to the admiral and grunted.

"I know you're there!" he shouted, turning to where Katara hid. "I saw you waterbending!"

She studied the figure in black. He had a scar across his face, and a topknot on his shaven head. His eyes were hard and squinted in the dark. Cautiously, Katara exposed herself, the water on the ground ready to leap into action.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Katara smiled gently. She knew her brother's animal calls from anywhere. They were quite convincing. This man didn't seem to notice them. An arrow _thunked_ on the ground before him. He leapt away as three successive arrows followed, never striking. Katara took this moment to dash away, slipping into the shadows as easily as air. Sokka would scold her.


	25. Honor

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:**

**HONOR**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

The hardness in her eyes lent to the allusion of ice. They were not a warm color of blue when the looked at him. She was not gentle with his bonds either, though he wasn't sure if he expected her to be. She was a girl. A Water Tribe girl. They were not aggressive or strong. Although, all he'd ever heard about from the Water Tribe was from those of the Fire Nation, and really what did they know anyway? He'd always been told Water Tribe girls were weak and submissive and passive. Boy, had he been told wrong.

"I've got my eyes on you," she warned as she backed away towards her friends.

The blind girl had a rock tent up and had been asleep for hours. The Avatar was injured and sleeping fitfully near the flying beast. The Water Tribe boy was sharpening his weapons and looking menacingly over at Zuko as the girl tended to him.

Zuko watched her walk away and crouch next to her brother, whispering as his frown deepened. They whispered together for a while – Zuko knew it was about him – and then the boy stood very quick and frowned angrily. "If you hurt her," he said with a dangerous edge to his voice, "I will rip your arms off and beat you with them."

The girl glared at her retreating brother and filled a bowl with water, approaching Zuko with her hard, icy eyes. It was not the same look she gave her brother. This look was full of promise – a promise that she would make Zuko very unhappy if so much as lifted a finger without her say so.

"Ty Lee's pressure points should wear off in another few hours," the blue-eyed girl murmured softly, sitting before his prone body. "But I'm sure you don't want to wait that long."

"What are you doing?" he asked sharply, trying to keep the fear out of his voice when she began feeling over his arms and chest, her light fingers prodding his neck and stomach. Thanks to that freakish acrobat girl, Zuko was in relative paralysis. He had been for an hour or so.

"Oh, hush," she hissed, feeling the nerves in the back of his neck. Zuko realized how soft her hands really were and steeled himself against the thought. "I'm healing you, you baby."

He opened his mouth but the girl was too quick. "Ah-ah-ah! You say whatever you're itching to say and I'll make sure you don't so much as wiggle your toes for hours."

Zuko closed his mouth. The girl smirked at her position of authority. "This won't hurt at all," she murmured, dipping her hands in the bowl of water.

Zuko couldn't help the gasp that escaped from his mouth when she removed her hands – and they were glowing! She placed one hand on his thigh, and the other on his shin, and soon his leg was surrounded with swirling blue water. When she called back the water Zuko could feel his leg again, and he apprehensively bent his knee. It worked, and he looked up at the Water Tribe girl with wide eyes.

"Save your thank yous for later, Prince Zuko," she said tritely. "We're not done yet, and I haven't even begun to release your firebending yet."

He didn't say a word as she worked. In fact, he didn't even breathe loudly, and he watched her with sharp eyes. He studied her face – her wide cheekbones, large eyes, full lips, graceful nose. Two loops of hair dipped before her face, and a long ponytail hung over her shoulder. He imagined she had very long, very thick hair. And her eyes as she worked became very focused and sharp, not hard or unpleasant, but powerful. They were magnetic eyes.

He found himself comparing her to other girls he'd met. Song had a very pleasant face, and her skin was pale like that of someone from the Fire Nation. With the exception of her eyes, she could have been of the Fire Nation. And she was kind and soft to a fault. Jin had been outgoing and jubilant. Plus, she had the most amazing…personality… But this girl was different. She was not refined like Song, nor endowed like Jin. She had a certain defiance in her voice and poise. She was strong. She was…looking at him…

"I said, 'How do you feel, Prince Zuko?'" she asked quietly.

Zuko flexed his fingers and stretched out his arms. Everything felt right… "My bending…" he said urgently.

She looked decidedly uncomfortable. "If I release your bending…you have to do something for me…"

His eyes widened with what she could possibly mean.

The girl actually blushed. "Don't be perverted!" she hissed, turning away from him. "I want you to help Aang learn firebending."

"And why should I do that? All I have to do is wait for this to wear off and I get the same results," Zuko replied.

At this the girl raised an eyebrow and gave him a superior look. "Well, I guess you wouldn't mind if Azula found you…wandering around the woods…no bending abilities…" She let this hang. "And besides," she continued, rolling her eyes, "I just want you to teach him a few things. Basics. Just give him a few hours, and we'll part ways. It's not like I'm asking you to travel with us. Just a few hours in the morning."

Zuko frowned. "And what's to keep me from running away once you release my bending? Or just attacking you?"

The girls smiled again. "Surely you have more honor than that."

He refused to look at her as she used waterbending to release his firebending abilities. Weeks later, Zuko would wonder why he kept thinking of new techniques for the Avatar to learn.


	26. Someday You Will Be Loved

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:**

**SOMEDAY YOU WILL BE LOVED**

~by Jimi's Little Wing~

She read the note with the kind of flatness one sees in the southern Earth Kingdom. She couldn't pretend that it didn't hurt, but then, she couldn't pretend it didn't relieve her either. They didn't quite ever love each other. There was always a pause before they met eyes, a pause that was significant.

However, she hadn't been expecting his hand on her shoulder. "I thought you'd be gone, your highness," she said softly. She knew his hands on her body – too fine for her peasant skin. He always commented on her peasant stock.

But his hand flinched, even though the 'your highness' had no bite to it. "I wanted to tell you in person…Katara…"

She sighed and sat on the ottoman to her left. Her rooms were lavish, and were perfect for relaxing in. It fit her job description – the Fire Lord's healer and lover. There were large feathery couches, soothing water scenes, cool temperatures, a luxurious bed, and exotic fruits filling the generous space of her quarters. Lord Zuko could frequently be found in her rooms for healing and relaxation…and sex. "Well. Talk," she said simply, looking up into his molten eyes. They always had the quality of heat and hardness that hers could never quite accomplish.

"You are…the only one of us unscathed by the wars…" he began in low tones. He meant his ascension to the Burning Throne. Her brother and Toph were dead. Aang was still missing. Zuko was scarred and missing an arm. And Iroh…well, Iroh was still unconscious. She was the only one of them alive and whole. But she was not unscathed as Zuko had said. And he knew it. "And the Earth Kingdom is still dangerous…my sister sits unchallenged on the Earth Kingdom's throne…"

"And you don't want me to be in that kind of danger," Katara finished.

"She would kill you," he said quickly.

"She would kill you, too, Zuko…your highness…"

He made an unrecognizable face and turned away from her. "Katara…you don't…have to…" but he stopped. Two days ago she had slipped up in public and called him Zuko. Five years and no mistakes…but now she had made one and he was going away. She had only wanted to tell him…

"You don't want me, Katara," he said like he was directing troops. "I'm incomplete… I'm all wrong for you…"

"Don't do this again," Katara pleaded, hanging her head. "I know."

"Then you understand?" he questioned, his voice high with hope.

She smiled. "Yes." It broke her heart to say it.

"I leave within the week," he said sharply, throwing himself onto the large ottoman beside her. "We should try to enjoy our time together."

Katara closed her eyes to the tears, clenching her hands where he could not see her nails bite into her palms. "Yes," she said in an empty voice, leaning back into his chest.

He began to play idly with her breasts, moving aside the blue silk with care. Katara made all the right noises, moved in all the right ways, played all the right games…but it was all empty. Zuko would leave…probably die…and leave her alone in the Fire Islands with child…with the heir…

_Each broken heart eventually mends…_

**A/N:** "Someday You Will Be Loved" is another Death Cab for Cutie song.


End file.
